I decided to write this fanficiton to keep writing while I edit my book. This opening chapter is an experiment to see what kind of response I get. Hopefully you'll like it!

Once upon a time, in an age where chivalry still lived tucked in the corners of a handsome strangers smile, there was a young woman named Ariella. She lived in a small town, which is now no more than stone and broken pottery, called Laveon.

Tucked away in the great forests, it was often passed by without a second thought by travellers. Passing such a small town was of no great consequence they thought and so they continued on their way.

Those who did choose to stay at the town's inn, known as the Emerald Ivy, found themselves enchanted by the charm of the small community. The townsfolk were peaceful; many were local fisherman who spent a hard day down at the river working to feed their families.

Though like every little town, a rotten stench was found pushed into the corner, which was often shunned by those who were of good nature. They turned their noses up at whoever was associated with the stench and though they were of good nature, they allowed themselves the right to judge anything or anyone associated with the stain that marked their good town.

Its name was The Pirates Hook and it was the only pub in town. Those who entered were of bad reputation; thugs, thieves and even retired pirates were known to gather in this small establishment to drink until they were of even worse character.

Ariella's fate had been an unfortunate one from the day she'd been born into the world. Her father, Gregor, had been a pirate, nasty and foul tempered, while her mother had been sweet in nature and timid. Like any pirate, Gregor had taken what he wanted and thus Ariella was born out-of-wedlock, breathing her first lungful of air as her mother breathed her last.

Faced with a wailing infant, Gregor had abandoned the illegitimate child at The Pirates Hook, leaving her fate to the pub owner, Korvin.

Korvin was a businessman and though Gregor was his friend, he had no interest in children and so left the barmaids to raise the little girl. It was only when she became a beautiful young woman that he had use of her.

So when Ariella turned thirteen she began to work as a barmaid, collecting the tips that the toothless customers left her with their sickening grins. She knew that grabbing the small coins from their grubby hands without a smile on her face, would result in their fat fingers curling around her reward and snatching it back. So with a plastered smile, she slowly saved, biting back as the men groped at her behind and shouted lewd comments.

If Ariella was grateful to Korvin for one thing, it was that he never allowed any man to do anything more then grab her, though she was sure that her future would hold a worse fate if she stayed too long.

Three years passed and with every penny she collected, Ariella's hopes grew for a new future outside of the town. As much as she loved the quaint little houses lined along the streets and the smiles people gave one another, Ariella never received a smile from anyone. There were only the whispers of her dirty birth and judgemental looks cast her way as she walked back to The Pirates Hook with her head hung in shame.

Ariella's only bearable company for the three years was the strange old man who sat in the corner every Tuesday night, smoking on his pipe. Tuesday was the only night that she was allowed to take off from work, since it was the quietest night of the week and it was the only night she looked forward to.

The man referred himself as Scuttle and though no one knew his true origins, Ariella was sure he was a pirate who'd travelled great distances to exotic lands.

The white tufts of hair fell around his old, worn face that was dark from the sun. An eye-patch covered his left eye and his right eye shone with a youthful excitement that still held the passion of a young man, eager for adventure.

Ariella would spend half the night listening to the stories he would tell her about strange lands and people who were even stranger. Of flying carpets and apples used to poison young princesses. Then at the end of his story, Scuttle would leave her a gold coin, touch his forehead and leave without saying another word, though Ariella knew this was a promise that he would come the next week.

To say she was living would perhaps be slightly exaggerated; she only lived when she listened to Scuttle's stories, the rest of the week she survived to make it to the next Tuesday night.

Our story begins on a Tuesday night, where clouds have begun to creep into the sky, promising of a storm to come...